October 15, 2009
I've been in a weird mood the past three months. A wee bit grouchy, feeling a lot of stress, perhaps have been a bit curt, short, or otherwise abrasive with people. Three days before our wedding anniversary (which is the same day as the Feast Day of San Lorenzo and the Pueblo Revolt in New Mexico in 1680), the MCAT got some bad news. My life now revolves around three things: taking care of the MCAT until her recovery is complete, taking care of the house/yard and dog, and keeping my head above water in my musicology studies and teaching duties this quarter.
As much as we wanted it to, the world and time did not stand still while we started running the gauntlet through the treatment and recovery. I still had other things to do, such as play a concert with the gang in Seattle. The concert meant that I had to practice and prepare, write program notes AND a pre-concert talk/lecture-demo sort of thing (piece o' cake; "no problem, Mr. Binkley").
I started doing what needed to be done in order to meet my own personal standard for public performance. I was working on fumes, not fuel, emotionally and physically. Yes, I have been working out in earnest since the anniversary, yes, I enjoy practicing and getting ready for a concert, and I love playing concerts. But the MCAT is/was foremost on my mind. As mentioned above, there was a bit of a grouchiness factor to the rehearsals for the concert, and I just did not feel in a compromising, collaborative mood. I had made up my mind on how I wanted things done and I just did it that way and didn't care if there was any resistance.
Speaking of resistance, there is nothing like exchanging a bunch of cheesy movie dialogue with friends to demonstrate the rhetorical principles of Geoffrey de Vinsauf ("How are you going to land on Venus using fractions?"). It took a Taurean attitude and effort to make me realize that resistance, is, in fact, futile in certain circumstances. No matter how resistant I was to my situation, and no matter how much I tried to control my pre-concert environment, things were going to be the way they were going to be and I was not the entity to control them.
I let go. I was just going to play. Lean back, stand up straight, and not force the music or musical issues. It was going to be a standing meditation while playing the flute in a public concert. From the first conscious thought of letting go to the actual release of my illusion of control and authority over the musical situation, there was more music coming out through less effort. I consciously said to myself during the concert, "let go; just play, your body knows what to do, the rest of you is unimportant." It was one of the most relaxing experiences in my life, to stand there and make a conscious decision to do as little as possible, physically. I video taped the concert and watched it about two weeks after the event. The person playing flute looks much taller than the same person in the same concert series a year earlier. The earlier incarnation is very intense, and had to play something that comes in at around 168 for the quarter note. Pretty fast stuff, and watching that video recording you can see the effort being put forth. In the most recent concert there were several passages of intense technical work, but on the video looks (and it felt) as if the player is doing nothing.
I checked my grouchiness at the door, along with a couple of steamer trunks worth of emotional baggage for the concert, and it was pure musical joy. My body was doing as little as physically needed, and a tremendous amount of music was realized, including by the other players. Doing nothing was, apparently, infectious and stimulating to others. Who knew?
Now during my practice when I notice that something is bogging down or that I'm just pushing too hard, I put myself back in the "resistance if futile" attitude and just let the music happen.
Did I mention that the concert was incredibly fun and relaxing at the same time?
